


all you're giving me is friction

by alykapedia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, what is even the point, yuuri is hot for the stubble: the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 00:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10524735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alykapedia/pseuds/alykapedia
Summary: “I forgot my shaving kit back in Hasetsu and it won’t arrive until tomorrow.” Viktor explains later, once he’s replenished his daily supply of kisses and then some. “Do you mind?”Yuuri, with beard burn all over his face and neck, hums in something like satisfaction and says, “no, no, it’s fine.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I remember seeing a bunch of art posts on tumblr with scruffy Viktor and immediately thought that Yuuri would be so ridiculously hot for it??? Scruffy!Viktor gets Yuuri from 0 to 100 it's ridiculous. 
> 
> Is there a point to this? Nah. Not really.
> 
> Hit me up for any glaring mistakes yo

Yuuri's gaze is almost like a physical touch, an uncertain caress perhaps. And while Viktor would never dare deprive the younger man of his staring—Yuuri's attention is a luxury people would have to pry off his cold, dead fingers—he also wants to know the reason for the numerous furtive glances he's been receiving. 

"Y _uu_ ri," he croons, drawing out the _u_ and waiting avidly for the scorching blush that inevitably erupts on Yuuri's cheeks; like the bright red of apples and Viktor wants very much to take a bite. Warm, brown eyes flicker towards Viktor's face before quickly flitting back to the drama playing on the TV. Any other day, Viktor will take the skittishness in stride, but he is so very bored and Yuuri’s warm and heavy gaze has ignited a fire underneath his skin that must be quenched. " _Yuuri_ ," he calls again, barely fighting the urge to run a finger along the teasing line of Yuuri's jaw because Viktor, despite what Yakov might claim otherwise, can actually control his impulses. Most of the time, at least. "Is there something wrong with my face?" 

He adopts an exaggerated pout, letting out a whine for good measure, which draws Yuuri's attention back to him as if magnetized. 

"What?!" Yuuri splutters, red-faced and waving his hands frantically. "No! Your face is perfect!" He practically screeches and Viktor can feel a pleased flush settle high on his cheeks because _Yuuri thinks his face is perfect_. _Wow_. _Amazing_. "I mean. It's a perfectly fine face. Your face is fine. It's your face! Why would there be anything wrong with it?” Yuuri rambles, twisting himself into incomprehensible knots as he continues his attempt to assure Viktor that there is absolutely nothing wrong with his face. Because Viktor’s face is a very good face and it is perhaps a face that Yuuri likes very, very much. “There's nothing wrong with your face." 

It’s during Yuuri’s third cycle of _your face is perfectly fine_ that Viktor inadvertently touches his cheek and discovers just why Yuuri has been staring.

Stubble.

"Ah,” he breathes out, swiping a hand across his cheek and feeling the roughness of his afternoon shadow catch at his fingertips. No wonder Yuuri has been staring. Viktor must look so unkempt. “Should I shave?"

Yuuri stutters, mouth falling slack at the question before snapping shut. Viktor can almost hear his teeth clack harshly from where he’s sitting. “Go do whatever you want,” is what Yuuri finally says, face impossibly redder as he stubbornly turns back to the TV.

"But what do _you_ think, Yuuri?"

"Whatever’s fine!” Yuuri insists, eyes flickering back to Viktor before settling firmly on his stubbled jaw, which Viktor takes to mean that _Yuuri wants him to shave_.

So Viktor does.

(He misses the disappointed moue of Yuuri’s plump lips when he comes down for dinner later, fresh from the kiss of a razor and the sting of aftershave.)

.

Waking up after a night of drinking always feels a little bit like dying.

Viktor knows this deep in his very bones and really, at this point, he should be more than used to it. But it still catches him by surprise like a knee to the gut or the fleeting touch of fingers against his bristly cheek and—

_Wait, what?_

When he wrenches his eyes open, the fingers are gone and he’s left staring up at Yuuri's startled face, feeling suddenly starved for touch. 

“Yuuri?” He rasps out before pausing, unsure as to how to ask _were you touching my face just now_ without sounding like a complete lunatic. So he forgoes that line of thought and asks instead, “did you sleep well?”

The look that Yuuri affords him is deadpan. And if Viktor wasn’t terribly hungover and feeling like he might just throw up at the slightest provocation, he’d hear the _no thanks to you_ that the curve of Yuuri’s eyebrows are clearly projecting. 

"I slept fine," Yuuri finally says after a long moment of judging Viktor with his eyes. "Wait here, I'll get you some aspirin." He says a beat later, because Yuuri is a godsend and Viktor will never ever deserve him but he swears that he will die trying.

As soon as his head stops pounding, that is.

And as soon as he manages to make himself look like a functional human being again, because it would not do for him to look as if he'd been dragged to hell and back while acting as Yuuri's coach at the _very first Grand Prix qualifier_. No. Yuuri deserves Viktor at his very best and very coachly-est or an actual English word that Viktor is not sure exists. 

_I'll start by shaving_ , he thinks resolutely when he runs a hand down his jaw, trying to mimic the feeling of Yuuri's touch. He'll start by shaving because Yuuri is all soft edges and soothing warmth and Viktor cannot hope to be worthy of him if he's as prickly as a cactus and looking like some rugged mountain man. 

(Yuuri sighs forlornly during breakfast and Viktor finds himself allowing him to eat bacon. Because if Yuuri looks at the general vicinity of his mouth one more time with a heartbroken expression, he might just end up doing something drastic. Like kiss Yuuri on his soft-looking mouth. Multiple times. With tongue.) 

.

It takes them three whole days to sort through their combined belongings and Viktor would have honestly given up sooner and hired someone else to do it, had it not been for the fact that seeing Yuuri's things admixed with his ends up being such a ridiculous high that he single-handedly rearranges the bedroom and puts away all of their clothes. The closet, which only used to house his clothes, now had Yuuri's sizable collection of oversized sweaters and soft shirts—including a faded shirt that says _I <3 Viktor Nikiforov_ that Mari had sneaked into his hands while Yuuri was being distracted by a grinning Yuuko—occupying a shelf or two. 

It also takes Viktor three whole days to discover that he forgot his shaving kit back in Hasetsu.

So when their fourth day in St. Petersburg comes, Viktor has the respectable beginnings of a beard forming on his face because he refuses to let his self-indulgent, twelve-step skincare regimen go to waste by using a safety razor. Of course, he doesn’t fully realize how bad his facial hair situation has gotten until he’s nuzzling into Yuuri’s neck and Yuuri lets out a startled squeak, hastily whipping around to stare at him with wide eyes.

“Were you expecting someone else, solnyshko?” He teases, bracing his hands against the countertop and trapping Yuuri between his arms.

Yuuri, in true Yuuri fashion, blushes up to his ears and mumbles out a _no_ , before lifting a hand to touch Viktor’s stubbly chin. “You surprised me,” Yuuri says, dragging his fingers over Viktor’s jaw, the touch oddly reverent. Viktor doesn’t even fight the urge to press a kiss into Yuuri’s palm “Are you growing it out?”

It’s said in a way that makes Viktor think that Yuuri wouldn’t mind if he _does_ grow a beard. It makes him think that Yuuri is possibly and completely on board with whatever he does, and it’s that thought, along with the shy flutter of Yuuri’s eyelashes that propels Viktor into pressing a soft and perfect kiss against Yuuri’s equally soft and equally perfect lips.

And like all the other times before, Viktor is physically incapable of stopping at just one. Not when he’s gotten a taste of Yuuri’s sweetness. So he kisses Yuuri again, this time on his cheek, and again on the angle of his jaw, until he’s peppering open-mouthed kisses along the length of Yuuri’s throat while Yuuri moans breathily, appreciatively—Eros coming to life under Viktor’s lips. 

“I forgot my shaving kit back in Hasetsu and it won’t arrive until tomorrow.” Viktor explains later, once he’s replenished his daily supply of kisses and then some. “Do you mind?”

Yuuri, with beard burn all over his face and neck, hums in something like satisfaction and says, “no, no, it’s fine.”

(Viktor ends up shaving it all off when his kit arrives and doesn’t notice Yuuri’s look of longing as he wipes off the excess cream and oil. It’s all very tragic.)

.

145,023 likes

**v-nikiforov** waking up to the best view #blessed

 

His phone screen shows a shot of Yuuri, still asleep and lying on his stomach, his back a long sinuous curve before it disappears underneath Egyptian cotton. It’s a good picture; innocuous enough that Yuuri won’t be too embarrassed when he sees it later, and suggestive enough that it satisfies something deep and possessive inside Viktor. Something that preens and leers as if to say, _you can all look but I’m the only one who gets to have him and keep him_.

Beyond his phone screen, Yuuri shifts, making soft noises that pluck at each and every one of Viktor’s heartstrings effortlessly. Plays a song with Viktor’s heart he never knew himself capable of. “Viktor?”

Viktor sets his phone down on the bedside table before turning to Yuuri with a smile and a touch of fingers to sleep-soft skin. Yuuri’s eyes have yet to open, in denial still of the morning sun streaming through the windows and spilling onto their bed, but they manage a valiant tremble at his touch. “I’m here, lyubov moya,” Viktor says and is rewarded with a sliver of brown, and when he dips in for a kiss, a throaty laugh.

“Tickles.”

He’d forgotten to shave last night, too tired for anything else aside from changing his clothes and collapsing on their bed. Viktor can already feel the bristliness on his cheek without having to check. “Should I go shave?”

“No,” Yuuri sighs sweetly, drawing him in further into an embrace with a hand on the back of his neck. “It’s fine.”

.

Viktor is starting to realize that it’s more than fine. In fact, he’s starting to think that Yuuri likes the whole scruffy thing. A lot. And really, if Yuuri’s gasping sobs while Viktor licks into him, stubble rubbing against where Yuuri is sensitive, are of any indication, Yuuri likes it when he doesn’t shave.

“You like it when I have stubble.”

He doesn’t mean for it to sound like an accusation, but from the way Yuuri stiffens from his lazy sprawl on Viktor’s chest, it definitely sounds like one.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Yuuri peers up at him with an uncertainty that tugs at Viktor’s heart. “Is it weird?”

_Is it weird that Yuuri is hot for everything Viktor does?_

“No. Not at all,” Viktor says easily, smoothing a hand down the bare expanse of Yuuri’s back and stopping just at the delicious curve of his ass. “It’s fine,” he adds with a waggle of his eyebrows before squeezing a handful of Yuuri’s butt.

“Viktor!”

.

After his first Grand Prix qualifier for the season (Gold, Trophée de France), he runs into Chris who laughs after taking one look at him.

Viktor can’t even find it in himself to be offended; he has a good idea of how wrecked he looks right now, but he’s honestly too blissed out to care.

“Trying on a new look, Viktor?”

He can easily lie and spew some excuse and Chris probably wouldn’t pry, but Viktor ends up blurting out the truth.

“Yuuri likes it.”

**Author's Note:**

> title is supposedly from that neon trees song. but ok apparently, i've been mishearing it all this time and the real line is "all you're giving me is fiction" and not "all you're giving me is friction" which. yeah. you'd think after years of parsing out fob lyrics, i'd be better at hearing shit. 
> 
> Viktor has a 12-step skincare regimen because beauty takes time and effort, and Yuuri and I refuse to believe that he woke up like that.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [i wanna feel you from the inside](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10614732) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account)




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